Distribution: http://www.grapevine.net/~lwilson/btvs.html. If you have permission to put my fics up, you're welcome to it. All others, please ask.
Rating: R
Content: angst, childe/sire stuff, bit of male/male smut
Spoilers: A tag to Apocalypse Nowish (Season 4) with flashbacks to sometime shortly after Angel was fished out of the sea. The timeline is a bit skewed between BtVS and AtS. Disclaimer: Not mine, this is sad. They belong to the evil god Joss.
A/N: My Angel/Spike Ficathon response for spikesbottomboy who wanted angst over Buffy, set before season 5, an R+ rating, and no noncon.
A/N 2: This is a rarity for me. I actually dumped the ending and totally rewrote it. Originally I just had what are now the flashbacks, but to make it R I needed to get them together. My first attempt was way too light-hearted. Hope this works better. :)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The sun was rising as Angel made his way home. He nearly caught on fire three times before reaching the hotel.
And he didn't care.
Shoving open the door, he stumbled into the cool darkness of the lobby, only to be set upon by a furious vampire.
"Where the hell have you been? Wes and Gunn made it back hours ago. You said you were going to make sure Connor and the cheerleader were all right, and they called right after I got back to check in. Don't tell me you went out to fight the Beast again." A hard hand smacked into his already sore shoulder and Angel growled. It didn't deter the other male. "You promised not to do anything stupid. I can't lose you, sire. I can't."
Angel gazed into Spike's terror-filled eyes and sighed, then wrapped him into a tight, comforting embrace. "I'm sorry. I've had a bad night."
Spike snorted. "It's the end of the world and he says it's a bad night."
"Yeah, well...something did end tonight." Anger draining from him, Angel let the weariness wash over him. "So very tired of it all."
"Yeah. Trouble is, we still have to live, don't we." Turning, Spike wrapped his arm around Angel's waist and guided him up the stairs. He recognized the reversal of roles the same time Angel did and they both stopped on the landing and looked into each others eyes.
~~~~~
He arrived on Angel's doorstep one warm summer evening, looking like death was dogging his steps. Thin to the point of emaciation, paler than normal, hair a riotous mass of curls growing out of the bleach, he'd stood there, arms wrapped around himself, wearing only a torn t-shirt and a pair of jeans that looked like they hadn't been washed in months.
He smelled of fear and longing and deep, deep pain, and Angel took one look at him and knew.
"Gypsy curse?" he asked facetiously, half of him wanting to stake the creature swaying before him.
Eyes wide and haunted, Spike could only shake his head.
"What do you want, Spike?"
A giggle burst from cracked, pale lips, startling the older vampire. "That's just it, innit? Dunno anymore. Thought I wanted to do right by her, but now..." He shook his head. "It hurts, Angel. You never said it hurt."
"Idiot," Angel muttered and grabbed Spike's arm before he could topple over. Spike turned, burrowing into his sire, shaking arms going around his waist.
And Angel nearly flinched at the muttered begging. "Help me, sire, please."
Wondering what the hell he was going to do with a broken William the Bloody, Angel led him into the hotel and up the stairs. As they walked, slowly, haltingly, he explained the rules. "There are humans living here. No terrorizing them or threatening them or hurting them. You live on bottled blood. First time you slip, I'll stake you."
"Couldn't, wouldn't, soul won't let me, screams at me," Spike mumbled.
Angel frowned, understanding completely, and not really enjoying that he felt a kinship with this vampire he'd created so long ago. He opened the door to his suite and half-carried the younger male over the threshold and straight into the bathroom. "You stink. Take a shower. Borrow some of my clothes. I'll go get you something to eat." As he pulled free of Spike, the younger vampire tried to cling to him, but he set him aside.
"And you'll help me?"
"You're about as helpless as they get and I still help them," Angel sighed and left the bathroom.
Spike watched him go, his sire, the vampire who'd made him what he'd been and hopefully would make him into something new. All Spike knew was that he couldn't go on like this, barely subsisting on animal blood, torn apart by nightmares and, worse, the visions that hit whenever he started to feel better about himself. Visions of so many dead. Men, women, children. So many children. Drusilla'd had a penchant for babies.
Shuddering at the thought, Spike swallowed back tears of fear and self-hatred and stripped off his ragged clothing. Letting them drop to the floor, he opened the door to the shower and stepped in. His legs felt rubbery, and he leaned against the tiled wall as he fumbled with the knobs. Cold water hit him, but he didn't care. When it warmed, he didn't care about that either.
Blocking all thought from his mind, he reached for soap and mechanically bathed the dust and grime of months on the road from his body. When he rubbed shampoo into his scalp, he felt the length of the curls and wondered dimly what he looked like.
Maybe it was only right the bleach wear off. The bleach had been part of the demon's guise.
He needed to shed all of that.
Or as much as possible. The demon was still in him, still talking to him, whispering evil, vicious things, showing him images of barbarity that sickened him. Sickened him because for over a hundred years he'd reveled in the worst evil.
Spike heard Angel return and turned off the water, then reached for a towel and carelessly rubbed it over himself, then wrapped it around his hips. He nearly fell as he stepped out of the shower, and tried to remember when he'd last eaten.
The scent of blood hit him and he instinctively licked his lips as he dragged himself from the bathroom.
Angel looked up from placing the bottles of blood on the table, and frowned. His body uncovered, Spike was even thinner than he'd seemed, almost as thin as he himself had been after three months beneath the ocean. "When was the last time you ate?"
"...Dunno." Spike slumped down into a chair and reached with a shaking hand for the first bottle. "Took a steamer from India. Finished off the rats in the hold a week ago maybe?" He took a sip of blood, then downed the bottle greedily.
Watching him, arms crossed over his chest, Angel waited for him to finish the second bottle, before he began questioning him.
Logically the first question was, "How did you get your soul back?"
Spike swallowed the last of the warm, healing blood, and set the bottle down. His hand no longer shook and he could feel the last wounds from the trials begin to heal. Slumping further into the chair, he shivered, not from cold, but from fear.
Because to tell Angel how he'd gotten back his soul, he'd have to reveal why.
And Angel might just kill him before he could explain.
Not that there was any explanation that would make the ugly situation sound good.
"Can I have some clothes first?" He watched Angel nod and walk to a dresser to pull out a pair of black sweat pants and a navy t-shirt. He caught them, then used the time to dress to try to come up with where to start.
Taking a deep and shaky breath, Spike sat back down and waited for Angel to join him.
Pulling out a chair, Angel sat. He crossed one leg over the other and placed his hands lightly on his knee and ankle, waiting.
He watched Spike struggle to speak, could almost see thoughts forming and being dismissed in the other vampire's head.
What finally came out, in stops and starts, and a few obviously genuine sobs, shocked him.
"I thought that getting a soul, becoming the man she wanted, would be enough. It would make up for what I did, everything I did." Tears brimming in his eyes, Spike looked up, trying to gauge Angel's reaction. "But, it can't. Nothing can. I won my soul, but it's not a prize. It's a punishment, making me feel everything she felt, the pain and the...oh god, the fear. I was so desperate. I told myself that I was just so desperate and I needed her to understand how much I loved her, but that's wrong, so wrong. It's just a feeble excuse. I nearly...I nearly..." He couldn't get it out and buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking.
Spike could feel Angel's eyes on him, and couldn't help but wonder why he wasn't being pounded into the floor or staked against the wall.
"One thing I've learned in the last century, even though it's hard to accept, is that the decisions and actions made by the demon shouldn't be the burden of the soul. Of course, they always are," Angel said softly. "That you, something in you, buried the demon enough to go fight for a soul in order to become a better person...I have to admire that. I want to kill you for trying to rape Buffy, don't get me wrong, and I'm not all right that you've been with her, but she told me that months ago."
Spike jerked his head up and stared wide-eyed at his sire. Angel gave a mirthless laugh and nodded.
"Yeah, she thought I needed to know that for some reason."
"Wouldn't tell any of her friends, not even Dawn, but told you," Spike muttered, rubbing his fingers over his face and through his damp hair. "Why didn't you stake me when you first saw me?"
"You're too pathetic to stake, Spike. I know about the chip. You're helpless, remember?" He nearly grinned at Spike's snarl, then sobered up. "So, why come to me?"
"...Don't have anywhere else to go. I don't know how to deal with everything I've done. All the screams in my head." His voice died away and he slumped deeper into his chair.
"And you think I can help you?"
"You've been through it." He saw Angel's nod as reassurance, and tried to relax. It had helped, spilling the truth, but the pain was still there, the suffering of all those he'd killed and tortured continued to torment him.
He wondered how many years that would last, but he was afraid to ask Angel. He feared he already knew that the pain never fully went away.
"So, can I stay?"
"You do what I tell you. You start making amends by helping the helpless and working here at the agency. You play nice with my friends. Eventually, you go grovel at Buffy's feet for forgiveness."
Spike nodded, swallowing hard at the final command. "Why are you letting me stay?"
"Because we're family, you idiot," Angel sighed as he rose from the table. "Only one of mine would be insane enough to go fight for a soul."
~~~~~
Huddled in his favorite chair, nursing a mug of warm blood, Angel told Spike everything he'd seen at Connor's, while the younger male listened and prowled the room.
"You're making me dizzy."
"I can't believe she did that to you."
Angel sighed, oddly thankful for the support. Their relationship was no longer rocky or confrontational, but was developing into something real, and for the first time, Angel acknowledged to himself that he didn't feel anything negative about the younger vampire.
Meanwhile, Spike continued to rant, and each word he spouted made Angel feel better. Snorting slightly at the perversity of it all, he downed the blood in the mug and set it aside. "So, you have my back," he said, interrupting Spike's tirade about Oedipus.
Spike spun around. "Of course I do. You're my sire."
"Oh...is that why?"
"Well, um. You're my friend, sort of." He fidgeted and fumbled for his cigarettes, then cursed as he remembered Angel's rule about not smoking anywhere in his presence.
A boom from outside sent both vampires to the window to peer out cautiously. The building across the street was on fire, as more of the nasty burning rocks fell from the hazy sky.
"I had hoped it would end when the sun rose," Angel said softly as Spike cursed beneath his breath.
"How are we going to stop this?"
"We can't do anything until we get some rest and figure out just what's going on. I'm sure Wes is on it. I hear him downstairs."
"You okay with him again?"
Angel shrugged. "We need him."
"Fred's finally back, too. She and Gunn are..." Spike gave his sire a lopsided grin.
"Making up is a good way to spend an apocalypse," Angel agreed, trying not to blush and tuning out the sounds from the nearby bedroom.
"You know, even though Cordelia betrayed you totally, having sex, feeling good, isn't a bad way to spend what may be your last few hours on earth."
"This isn't going to be the end of the world."
"That wasn't my point," Spike began, then sighed and grabbed Angel's shoulders. "Oh, fuck it." Yanking down the older male's head, he rose on his toes and kissed him hard and hungrily.
Momentarily surprised, Angel found himself responding, his arms going around Spike's waist, one hand slipping down to the jean clad buttocks. "What are we doing?" he finally managed to ask as Spike broke the kiss with a soft, hungry gasp.
"Feeling good."
The lips locking around the most sensitive spot on his neck--the scar where he'd originally been bitten--made Angel groan as his knees went weak. He hadn't planned for this to ever happen again, but Spike was right, it did feel good. Arousal made him shudder and clasp the younger male to him. Cock pressing painfully against the fly of his trousers, he knew he needed this. He could feel the answering need in his childe.
"Bed."
"Fuck yeah," Spike sighed and they maneuvered their way over to the bed. Clothes went flying as they kissed and caressed, quickly falling back into patterns not expressed for over a hundred years.
As more fire balls fell and the world around them burned, Angel rolled his childe onto his stomach and kissed his way down the slender, pale back, listening to moans that, for once, were coming from his bed and not from another room in the hotel.
Taking Spike back into his life, he'd never given this outcome one thought, but he was glad the younger male was there, wanting him, eager for him. As he pushed inside him and Spike cried out in pleasure, Angel growled and fully welcomed him home.
End